Elementary: Compromise and Trust
by WayWardWonderer
Summary: Sherlock's Post Concussion Syndrome gets to him during a stormy night and Joan takes care of her stubborn friend in the only way she can. Sherlock's way!


Hiding away from the world in a feeble attempt to protect his healing brain from the offensive triggers of extreme light, sound and odors Sherlock locked himself in his bedroom with a forty year old cold case to keep his mind preoccupied. Joan had respected his desire for space and privacy, giving him as much distance as she dared.

Sherlock's lingering Post Concussion Syndrome had plagued him with headaches and left him lethargic, which meant rest was absolutely crucial to his recovery. But the severity of the head trauma prompted Joan to check in on him every few hours to ensure that he wasn't in any immediate danger from other side effects of the P.C.S.

A thunderstorm rolled over the city bathing the countless buildings that lined every block under a heavy rain that pounded relentlessly against the roof. The sound of rain usually offered Sherlock a peaceful white noise to aid his deductions but currently it provided nothing more than a chronic pain to his overly sensitive ears. Flashes of lightning that shone through the window, despite the curtains being closed, aggravated his eyes.

Pressing his palms against his eyes Sherlock let out a pained sigh and sucked in a shallow breath between his gritted teeth as a sharp pain struck his skull with a relentless throbbing that matched every beat of his heart.

The exceptional pain caused his blood pressure to rise and with it his heart to race; the pain increasing with every beat.

"W-Watson..." Sherlock muttered as he slowly stood up from behind his desk, using both hands to support his weight against the smooth surface. His voice was low, almost a whisper but to his sensitive ears it could've been a high pitched shout. "Watson... please..."

Daring to let go of the desk Sherlock stumbled toward his closed door, his footsteps heavy and uncoordinated, one hand pressed against his face which carried a massive grimace of pain and the other hand reaching out desperately for someone to grab onto.

Thunder shook the city as lightning continued to flash brightly, blindly as the storm raged on.

"Watson... Watson!" Sherlock's legs buckled from the strain of the agony eating away at his consciousness. Dots danced before his eyes and his ears began to ring as he fell to his knees and fell forward onto the floor with a audible 'thud'.

Joan, who had been downstairs in the kitchen making a kettle of tea, heard the fall but couldn't place the sound as just that. Her eyes immediately shot up to the ceiling above her toward the source of the noise. Pulling the kettle from the burner she turned off the stove and called out her friend's name. "Sherlock?"

No reply.

"Sherlock? What was that?"

Not waiting for an answer Joan marched through the kitchen, across the front parlor and up the wooden staircase leading to the second floor. The clicking of her heels echoed throughout the brownstone as the storm continued to fill the building with raucous thundering and bright lightning.

"Sherlock? Please talk to me." Joan asked as she walked down the hallway and stopped outside his closed bedroom door. Deciding against knocking Joan turned the doorknob and pushed the door open slowly. Peering into the dark room she looked toward his desk but saw it was vacant. "Sherlock?" Scanning the room quickly she spotted the humanoid figure laying on the floor. Twitching. "Sherlock!"

Rushing into the room Joan knelt down beside Sherlock and pressed her fingers against the side of his neck. Sherlock was curled up on his side in agony. His skin was warm, his body trembling and his eyes were shut so tight that streams of tears were rolling down his face.

"Sherlock? Can you hear me?" Joan asked her friend as she measured his racing pulse.

Unable to offer an intelligible answer Sherlock only groaned in utter pain.

"Sherlock?" Joan moved her hand from his neck and pressed her palm down against his chest to feel his pounding heart and check his breathing. "I know you're in pain but I need you to answer. Did you hit your head?"

Struggling to find his voice Sherlock could only slightly shake his 'no'.

"Are you dizzy?"

Another 'no'.

"Nauseous?"

No.

The storm intensified causing the rain to pound harder against the roof, the windows to shake with violent gusts of wind, the building to reverberate with the thunder and the interior to illuminate brightly with the lightning flashes.

Joan looked up and at the window as the lightning cut through the dark curtains. "The storm."

Sherlock weakly nodded. Joan didn't see the motion but she knew that the it was the storm that had exasperated his P.C.S. to the severe extent that it had become.

"We need to get you away from the windows. Come on."

Pulling Sherlock's arm up and around her shoulders she awkwardly muscled her friend up from the floor and onto his knees. With a little coaxing she was able to get him to stand up, although his legs were shaking horribly, and walk slowly to the opened door.

"A few more steps." Joan encouraged as she lead him from his bedroom and into the guest room. "The windows are covered under heavy blinds and really thick curtains, the light won't bother you in there."

Sherlock pressed a hand to his aching head as his quavering voice finally returned. "Watson, I-"

Joan felt Sherlock's arm suddenly tense as his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he collapsed onto the ground. As soon as his body touched the floor he went into convulsions right before Joan's eyes.

"Sherlock!" Instinctively Joan supported his head and neck with one arm and tried to keep his body as still as possible with her other arm. "It'll be over soon!" She tried to soothe as she held onto her seizing friend's body. "I'm with you."

The seizure finally ended and Sherlock's body went limp. A faint foamy drool escaped his lips as he began breathing in deep, slow rasps beneath Joan's hands.

"Sherlock?" Joan used her thumb to gently wipe away the foam from Sherlock's lips as she carefully lifted his eyelids and checked his pupils. "Please. Talk to me."

"...hurts." Sherlock slurred as he swallowed once and grimaced.

"I know it does." Joan sighed in relief seeing her friend conscious and still coherent. "And I know if I suggest calling an ambulance you'll just say 'no', so I'm going to very slowly help you to sit up so we can get you onto the bed. Okay?"

Nodding weakly in agreement Sherlock allowed Joan to slip her arm under his shoulders and practically heft his body upright into a sitting position on the floor. Wrapping her arms around Sherlock's and his chest Joan was able to support most of his weight as she helped him back up to his feet.

The storm continued to bombard the brownstone beneath an overwhelming cascade of light and sound.

Sherlock futilely put a hand back over his eyes to try to block the flashing lights but the intensity of each was too bright to be ignored by the stricken detective.

"Almost there." Joan soothed as she guided him over to the large bed and slowly guided him down to the soft surface. As Sherlock began laying back she put her hand under his shoulder to ease him down as gently as possible against the large, fluffy pillow. "That's it. Try to take slow breaths."

"...My breathing is fine, Watson." Sherlock took the pillow from beneath his throbbing head and smothered it against his face an a desperate bid to block all sight and sound. "My head," his voice was now muffled by the thick pillow. "not so much."

Picking up a thick dark brown quilt that had been draped over a chair in the corner Joan hung the fabric up over the sole window of the room, hooking it by the corners to the metal support rods that held the curtains in place over the window itself. The dark quilt managed to completely conceal the window and prevent all subsequent lightning flashes from the filling the room with the painfully bright light.

"There, that should help." Joan returned to Sherlock's bedside and pulled the pillow away from his face. "Want me to get your earplugs?" She asked in a very hushed tone as she pressed her hand to the side of his face softly.

"...Please."

"You're warm." Joan noted the increase of his skin's normal temperature. "I don't think it's from a fever, I think it's from high blood pressure."

"...Seizure." Sherlock whispered pathetically.

"Pardon?"

"My recent episode. Was it due to a seizure?"

"I... I can't say for sure." Joan admitted feeling a little useless at the moment.

"Why not?" Sherlock opened one eye and stared intensely at her as she leaned over him. "You're a doctor."

"Because while seizures can be the result of head trauma, high blood pressure, fevers, illness... there has been no confirmed correlation between seizures and P.C.S."

"Yet, you fear my blood pressure is already abnormally high." Sherlock reminded her through gritted teeth as another deafening crash of thunder rattled the entire city during the chaotic storm

"Yes, but not dangerously high."

Sherlock closed his eye and tried to relax as much as possible. "I will not return to the hospital for a confirmation on the matter. I will merely be instructed to 'relax' and be 'more patient' during my recovery."

"Sherlock, you need to know what's going on with your-"

"I'm well aware of what I need, Watson. Right now I need quiet, darkness and solitude. Three requirements that will prove impossible to attain during a visit to a hospital."

Thunder outside shook the brownstone and caused Sherlock to flinch in pain.

"Fine. You win." Joan retracted her hand from his cheek as she stood up straight. "I'll get your earplugs and some non-addictive aspirin for the pain. But tomorrow we're going to see a doctor, and tonight I'm going to check in on you every hour, on the hour to make sure you're still alive."

"Much appreciated Watson."

"It's not so much for you as it's for me." Joan quipped as she made her way back toward the opened door. "If you die then I'll have to find a new roommate and partner."

Sherlock let a faint smile creep over his face as Joan left the room with a brilliant send off.

"I treasure our friendship as well."

 _ **-The End**_


End file.
